Flower Cycle

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 113, 6 February 1937, Page 20

Flower Cycle

Roses are the flowers of morning, Royal roses wet irit/i dew, Radiant roses swaying, swinging, Where the birds soar upward, singing, And the sweep of misty mountains Mass their might on burning blue. Poppies are the flowers of noonday, Valiant lovers of the sun, Set like stars in desert spaces, Glorifying barren places, Making grey ways flame in scarlet, Where the waters never run. Where the fierce noon beats and blazes Out on ways that know no shade. Where the flowers the valleys cherish Fragile blossoms pass and perish, There the passionate poppies bravely Raise red banners, unafraid. And the grey hour, too, has blossoms, These are mignonette and. musk, Molding dreams of days departed, Keeping memory loyal-hearted, Sanctifying silent sorrow. Evermore the flowers of dusk. —Nellie A. Evans in "The Sydney Morning Herald."